


Used To Be Golden

by MiladyMorningstar (PrincessPestilence)



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fights, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Actually a Song Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessPestilence/pseuds/MiladyMorningstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The way that you left me is alright, it's alright<br/>If I argue the point then we yell and we fight<br/>And I won't be home for the rest of the night<br/>You might hate my words but you know that I'm right<br/>You know that I'm right"</p><p>-The Story So Far: "Clairvoyant"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Used To Be Golden

**Author's Note:**

> (not a songfic)

_“I think I'm in love with you.”_

_I pause on an inhale, holding the burning smoke in my lungs as I turn to Seungri. He's not even looking at me. Eyes trained on what stars are visible in this city, leaning back against the red brick of the concert hall. His profile haloed by the yellow streetlights and the bright cacophony of the city's nightlife, and while I've never given the two of us much thought before, I can't deny that he looks kind of beautiful right now._

_I exhale slowly, clouds curling up from my nose. I turn back to the stars again, like they can tell me what to do. My heart beats a quickening tattoo in my rib cage and I swallow hard. I may never have given us much thought before, but I damn well am now._

_Silence drags on and it's not until my cigarette has burned down to the filter, when Seungri sighs and pushes away from the wall; away from me; that I realize I haven't actually responded yet._

_Dropping my cigarette butt and grinding it into the asphalt, I reach out and grab Seungri by the sleeve._

_He stops, half turning toward me. I wrap my fingers around his slim wrist. “Hyung...” he sighs. I pull him closer and crowd him back against the wall. This close, I can hear his breath hitch. Lips parted, cheeks pink, and I swear I can see his pupils dilate; yeah this is definitely something I could get used to._

_“Okay.”_

*

“Damnit, Dae! You know I hate it when you do this!” Seungri slams his hand against the wall. I flinch at the sound and the rattle of the picture frames on the wall. He stand seething by the doorway, palm against the wall, eyes aflame in hurt and frustration.

I pinch my lips together, nose flaring as I struggle to control my anger. “Well you should have thought of that before we got together. I'm not any different than I was before!”

I shove my way through the doorway, but he follows me into the next room, gesturing wildly, arms spread. “Exactly! You're exactly the same! It's like we're not even together sometimes! Hell, sometimes it's as if we're not even friends!”

“I don't know what you were expecting, Seunghyun! I'm not going to change overnight into something I'm not! You can't just... just fix everything by being with me!”

Something softens in Seungri's face, the rage draining away from him, if only just a little. “Daesung...” he says in that tentative way he talks to me sometimes. He steps closer, cupping my face. I try to shrug him away, but he stays firm, maneuvering his way into my space until we're breathing the same air. “I'm not... trying to fix you or anything. I just wish that...”

“Wish what?” I ask acerbically. “What do you want from me, Seungri?”

“You!”

His eyes are bright and he shakes me a little.

I clench my jaw, looking away.

*

_Seungri pulls me by my shirt collar, lips firmly attached to my own. He backs up till his knees hit the edge of the mattress, falling abruptly onto the bed. The grip on my shirt pulls me down with him, and I land on top of him with an oomph. We giggle breathlessly into each others' mouths. Seungri shifts to accommodate me between his legs and shoves his hands up my shirt, pushing it up until I rip it off myself. He wastes no time ridding himself of his own top. I unbutton my pants, but the sight of all that skin has me surging forward, pulling his dusky, pink nipple between my lips._

_He groans, fingers tangling in my shaggy hair. Pulling me away, our lips clash again and we finally shimmy our way up the bed. Seungri shoves his hands between us and undoes his own tight jeans, lifting his hips to slide them off his ass._

_Neither one of us manages to take our pants completely off. We're pressed tightly together, chests slick with sweat, our body heat caught between us. I pant humidly into his neck, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses wherever I can reach. I have one hand wrapped around us both, not stroking, but holding us together while I thrust up into the circle of my fingers, sliding delectably against his own wet dick, dripping steadily onto his stomach._

_Seungri isn't loud, but he gasps and sighs harshly into my ear which is almost as good. His hips give short little thrusts in tandem with my own. He shoves his heels into the bed, widening the spread of his thighs as his finger nails rake hot, bright trails up my back._

_He's silent when he comes. His head is thrown back, and if I weren't pressing him down into the mattress I think he would have arched clear up off the bed._

*

I can't deal with this right now.

I'm tired, and I'm frustrated, and I'm fucking pissed off. I pull away from him keeping my eyes away so I don't see the resignation in his eyes.

“Daesung, please,” he pleads with me. I shake my head, teeth grinding together. I tug on my jacket and pocket my keys.

“Don't,” I say.

“You can't just fucking leave, every time we fight!” he yells, but I disagree. I don't want to fight with him. I hate fighting with him, and I hate that it's all we ever seem to do anymore. I don't want to fight with him, don't want to see that disappointed look on his face, see all that anger directed at me, so I go out and cool down.

“Seungri, I can't do this anymore.” I don't know if I'm talking just talking about this argument anymore. Before he can respond, I'm slamming the door. Shoulders bunched tensely up by my ears, I make my way down the corridor away from our apartment. I'm at the stairwell but I still hear he harsh thud and shatter of something fragile breaking back inside.

*

_Seungri hasn't gotten any less gorgeous when he's framed by the light. His eyes crinkle and his brow furrows as he sleepily tries to combat the morning sunlight streaming in from the bedroom window._

_In the spotlight like this, I can see the faint marks on his skin; the natural little birth marks and the tender bruises I left the night before. I stroke one with my thumb, too drowsy still to move down and take it between my lips, suck and bite on it until it blooms anew._

_Seungri grumbles, waking up now. I watch as his eyes just barely slit open and he winces against the light._

_“Morning,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. I stroke his cheek._

_“I love you.”_

*

It's early when I return.

I hang my jacket up, side stepping the broken glass. The pale morning light illuminates the room, but it still feels as cold and empty. The quiet is deafening. There's a duffel bag by the door.

I pad my way into the kitchen where Seungri is leaning against the counter.

He sighs when he sees me. He reaches onto the counter beside him and I hear something slide against the tile, disappearing into his hand.

He comes to stand in front of me, eyes on his shoes, and it's weird to have him looking away from me. In his fingers is the key to my apartment which he holds up for me to take.

“Okay.”

 

 


End file.
